


I’ll Be Yours

by SmolPotato3404



Series: Sledgefu Week 2020 [4]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Flashbacks, Post-War, Rain, Sledgefu Week 2020, Thunderstorms, canon-divergent, his name is andrew ;(, sledgefu week, snaf never left gene on the train and now they have a nice life and a nice family ok, they have a son !
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolPotato3404/pseuds/SmolPotato3404
Summary: Now they lived together in a quiet town where most kept to themselves. They wore wedding bands—though meaningless in the eyes of the law, they meant everything to each other. They had a little garden out back, which was probably getting drenched at the moment. The soft padding of little feet across the porch deck reached his ears, announcing by far the best part of his new life.-The boys sit on their front porch in the rain and reflect.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Series: Sledgefu Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851721
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	I’ll Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Rain. Title is from Fall Out Boy’s “The Kids Aren’t Alright”

The rain poured ceaselessly, a steady droning on the roof. Eugene stared through the curtain of water shielding his porch, beyond the trees and into the grey skies. There was a certain sense of lifelessness in the air, along with the humidity. Nothing moved, only the falling rain. 

In a way, it reminded him of Okinawa. The pouring rain drenching their foxholes, the way the cold permeated through his poncho, chilling his bones. The way he strained his eyes but couldn’t catch any movement in the pitch black night. He could only hear the whistle of mortars and the blood rushing through his ears as he waited for his imminent death. Snafu had held his hand one night. He felt the way he shivered next to him, and in the brief light of a flare, he could see despair flashing behind Snafu’s wide unfocused eyes, something most couldn’t see, but Eugene knew it was there. 

Now they lived together in a quiet town where most kept to themselves. They wore wedding bands—though meaningless in the eyes of the law, they meant everything to each other. They had a little garden out back, which was probably getting drenched at the moment. The soft padding of little feet across the porch deck reached his ears, announcing by far the best part of his new life.

Eugene smiled as his two year-old son lifted up to him a raw penne noodle as some sort of offering. He turned to see Snafu grinning at them from the doorway, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel before throwing it back over his shoulder. Eugene let out a puff of laughter as little Andrew climbed into his lap, insisting that he take the noodle. 

“Hey Snaf? Why is our child not wearing any pants?”

“It’s just a kid thing,” he shrugged.

“I can assure you it is not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he smirked, taking a seat next to him, barefoot as always. “Dinner should be ready in ‘bout a half’n hour.” Eugene hummed as he took the noodle from Andrew’s hands. 

“Hey,” Eugene whispered gently, motioning his head to the cigarette Snafu was pulling from his pack. Ever since they had a small child living with them, they had been trying to work on Snafu’s smoking habits. With all the new studies linking lung cancer with smoking, Eugene was relieved that Snafu was taking his health more seriously, at least because of his son. 

“I just don’t want him breathing in the smoke,” Eugene said apologetically. Snafu sighed in agreement, putting the pack back into his pocket. And there it was. The way Snafu ran one thumb back and forth over the other when he was getting anxious. They stared at each other in silence as the rain droned on. 

Eugene turned his attention back to the rain. It was falling thicker now. He could hear the low rumble of thunder rolling in the distance, forewarning a gathering storm. The last time they had a thunderstorm, Eugene had woken up from dreams of explosions and bodies sinking in mud, only to see Snafu pacing in the dark, their son in his arms. He had held him close, singing to him softly a French lullaby that Eugene did not recognize. It was such a tender moment, Eugene wasn’t even sure Snafu had noticed that he was awake. That night he fell back asleep to the soothing sounds of his husband’s singing. 

He looked over to see that Snafu’s eyes had gone glassy with his jaw clenched as he too stared at the rain. A few moments passed before his eyes blinked back into focus. He gave an uncharacteristic faltering smile before slowly leaning his head on Eugene’s shoulder.

“I like our home, Genie,” Snafu smiled, and Eugene couldn’t help but chuckle at the understatement. 

_Our home._ What a beautiful set of words. Sitting there on his front porch, holding his lover’s hand, his son in his lap. With dinner cooking on the stove and the rain pouring hard down the roof over their heads. He had never felt more at home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
